


Dark Thoughts

by MMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Daisy Centric, Dark, Intense, Like seriously DARK people, Multi, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: Some nights, all Daisy wants is to be torn apart.





	Dark Thoughts

Some nights, all Daisy wants is to be torn apart.

She pictures it, stark and clear. An unnamed body covering hers, pushing her against a wall, a bed, a table, the floor, any surface really. Pushing her and pushing _in_ her, hard, unyielding, deep, unforgiving. The pain on her insides as it goes and goes and the pressure increasing into a ripping point. Agony and pleasure so intense she comes all over her own fingers fast and dirty dripping onto the sheets pleasure and shame.

She closes her eyes and tries not to cry because before, before Hive and Quake and Ward and SHIELD all Daisy fantasized about was love. Someone who would hold her and fuck her slow and fast but nice and good. Someone who would want her, care for her, be there with her. But now she is frigid to love and to care and to good. Now all that makes her drip and clench and _want_ is pain and punishment and a presence that can't be ignored.

She is grateful when she can keep the unnamed body is her fantasies unnamed. The punisher. The avenger. The justicer. The one who brings relief by dishing out what she craves, what she deserves, what she needs. But there are so many, so many she has hurt. So many that have been hurt, killed, because of her, by her. So many she cares about and loves, _loves_. And sometimes the body isn't unnamed but it's one of them and it's so much worse because that makes it so much better.

She can't even bring herself to think their names but she sees their faces. The lightning striking at her, intense and mindless. The mechanic disassembling her, piece by piece. The Doctor and The Scientist working together to dissect her down to the marrow of her bones. The Warrior defeating her into a pulp of herself. The Leader, The Father, his stony face as he treats her like the betrayer she is, as he makes her cry and scream and beg for more.

And Daisy craves. As intense as the pain she imagines, so strong it's almost real. But it's not, it's not quite there and she wishes, wishes someone would give it to her. Would dish out the punishment she deserves, wants, _needs_ . Would use her and hurt her and rip her apart until nothing was left, no body, no Daisy, no guilt, no nothing. But no one sees it, how could they? The need is as invisible as the sharp teeth eating at her from the inside. And they are far, far from her as they should be because Daisy is poison, toxic, venom and everything she touches turns to dust so she _must not touch_.

But Daisy wishes and wants and fantasizes and needs like an endless pit. Throws herself and flings herself and abandons herself to danger and loneliness and hunger and any pain she can find without hurting those she loves anymore than she already has. But even in that Daisy is a failure, always a failure, always a pain and a disappointment because she is _still hurting them_. She is hurting them by trying to protect them from herself. And isn't it a bitter irony? A lose-lose situation for her and everyone she ever touched. Because Daisy is a perverted version of a perverted tale. Queen Daisy she is, damned from the beginning to be alone and, if not, to guarantee agony to those who accompany her.

The harm already done, she comes back. Because maybe there is hope and they need her so she does. By the end, everything has fallen apart but not the most important. The most important is with her, around her, and mostly okay and if not, for once, it's not her fault. Not her fault. It's a selfish relief but it's a relief and she takes it because it's all she can get.

And yet, and yet. Daisy still craves. Still wants. Still needs. The pain, the pleasure, the punishment, the justice of a named body, bodies, over her, in her. But it's hidden, deep inside, as deep as she wishes they would go. It will never leave her mouth or drip through her eyes or slither from under her skin. It will remain inside, gnawing at her, chewing on her, feeding from her. Her own personal living monster. And maybe that is just enough because is there a better punishment than never getting what you want? Never getting what you need?

So Daisy wants. Daisy needs. She is never at peace. But agony is a relief, even if it's the agony of unfulfillment. Maybe someday, someone will finally put her out of her misery. She wouldn't dare do it herself, wouldn't add that to her list of crimes. But she dreams about it, almost as much as she dreams about pain. The ultimate punishment. She waits and does her best not to fuck up in the meantime. Even knowing she will fail, she will try. She owns that much to them.

But every time someone touches her, she recoils. Because Daisy is poison, toxic, venom. Because she won't let herself harm anymore, and to not harm, she must not touch.

So she doesn't.

**Author's Note:**

> So...?
> 
> *
> 
> I solemnly swear I will update my WIP's. Soon. But I just had to write this because *angst*.


End file.
